Who am I?
by Catastrophe Cullen
Summary: Sherlock has married Irene after all, and John with Mary. But behold, even Moriarty has gotten a child. The next generation of the World's Greatest Detective. Mysteries await you, and you, Dear Readers, will solve it with me as we go.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I am back. Cheers, mates!

Summary: Behold, the one and only Sherlock Holmes has married! And who to? Why, none other than our dear Irene Adler, who was his rather cunning, kind-of archenemy. Couple years later, they are seen with a young boy, their son.

But it's not only them that have brought a child into this world. You see, the Doctor John Watson has finally married Mary Morstan, and had a young boy couple of years younger than Holmes'.

And if you thought that was it, and we were just in for a happy ending, you might be quite wrong.

Now, where were we? Oh yes, marriages and children. It might frighten you, so beware, but even Professor Moriarty, has a woman with the same cunningness and cruelness. The even bigger surprise? The heir, the child- is not a man.

Yes, dear Readers, she is indeed a woman.

Key:

Sherlock&Irene-Ashton (Asher, Ash)

John&Mary-Lysander (Ly)

Moriarty&MysteryWoman-Mystique. (Mysti)

The clanging of hooves could be heard in the dawn, close to morning. The beautiful and cold dawn is very quiet, with every good girls and boys sleeping and snoring away to their good sleep.

All except for two young, adventurous, and mischievous boys, who, were indeed spending their night thinking and planning for things to do in the morning, the time they could be energetic and without rules.

One sandy-haired boy with warm sea-blue eyes crept up slowly and silently to the edge of the room, picking up a lid that was sealed on top of a wooden crate. He picked the questionable material up with one hand, and let the lid fall onto the crate quietly, making sure to scan the area and room to make sure that there was indeed no-one sneaking up at him.

Well, he was an only child, so that could never happen anyway. He brushed back his blonde hair, and sat on the edge of his bed, sitting slowly to make sure the old bed didn't creak like it did when he jumped on it. Looking at the machine, he clicked the switch located on the bottom of the item. It shook, and for a moment, he seemed uncertain. But swirls began to make itself visible on the top of the curiously-looking machine, and he snuggled into his blankets as the static sound vibrated the room. The boy gasped softly and went deeper into the sheets, to muffle the noise. It stopped, and he brought it back up again and looked at it.

Slowly, a picture began to form on the screen. He excitedly looked at it for more, as she light shone on the right corner. Then a small voice exclaimed something, as he looked at it in shock.

"Ashton, are you out of your mind? If my Mother and Father catch me, they'll shove soap into my mouth for sure!" He heard as he chuckled, responding into the little hole:

"Don't worry, I'll be worse. Dad promised me he would take all of my tools and pocketknife, too!" Ashton replied innocently into the microphone, as he fidgeted with the corner of his shirt. And it was true. His Father would lock it up, and he couldn't see or get it back.

He hoped with his heart that his Dad would forgive him, anyway.

"Ash, maybe we should sleep and see each other tomorrow instead." The smaller boy shakily shot back as he looked left and right, as though their Parents would jump out at him at any moment.

"You dastardly boy, Lysander." Ashton rolled his eyes, but smiled a little. "Okay then, I'll see you tomorrow. Promise?" He added, as the other boy nodded, his green eyes sparkling with joy.

"Promised, Holmes."

"Better keep that one, Watson."

AN: Did I confuse you? I hope I have not. But now, move over Sherlock and John! Now, Ashton and Lysander are the smart and cunning Detective pair.

Happy Holidays, and I'll update the other stories! I swear.


	2. Chapter 2

Hum, hum, hum… Thanks for the Reviews though! ^^

"Ashton!" Irene called as she dusted off her apron at the Kitchen, overflowing with the smell of freshly-baked Pancakes and brewed Coffee. She kissed her husband's cheek, handing him his mug, filled with the aromatic liquid as she called up the stairs again for her lovely son's name. She smiled as she heard the pitter-pattering of his little footsteps as the figure came down the stairs, his blonde hair unkempt and messy, and his fingers rubbing at his blue eyes.

"Good morning, Mama." Ash replied as he hugged his Mother happily, his spirits high and waiting for his awaited meeting with his best company, Lysander. His sleep had been chased away at the nighttime after the talk with Ly, and he had been left to stare at the white, pale ceiling. But he didn't mind.

"And where is my 'Good Morning'?" Sherlock pressed as he peered pointedly over the paper he was reading. He saw the blonde boy's head turn as he ran to his Father, hugging him tightly as Irene went to get her son's Breakfast.

"Morning, Papa." Ashton smiled as he hopped off, and then went to his chair. Climbing with ease, he began to munch on his Pancakes, sipped his orange juice, and poured more Maple Syrup on top. Beginning to feel the hunger pangs, he ate until his stomach protested, then looked at his Mother with the expression of, "I'm done!"

"What do you say?" Irene asked as she wiped her lips daintily with the napkin. Ash smiled, his sea-blue eyes lighting up with excitement. "May I please me excuse, Mama?" He innocently asked as he wrung his hands cutely, with the complete puppy eyes that even his Father, the famous Sherlock Holmes, could overlook.

"You may. Careful to not trip over the stack of books on the way out-!" Sherlock exclaimed as his son jumped over the stack of books with no worry, then flashed yet another grin as he went out the door, slamming the door open with the gust of wind.

"Ashton, your coat…" Irene sighed as she looked at the bundle of cloth on the floor. She picked it up gently, and then dusted it off. Sometimes, that boy… Her light smile was evident as she hung it up, and then continued with her meal, shooting a look over to Sherlock. And it was evident: "He obviously followed after you!"


End file.
